Rock'n and Sock'n
by The-Caitiff
Summary: AU What if Harry tapped into his Slytherin side at the end of his first year? What would happen if a slightly more streetwise Harry fought Voldemort for the stone. Most likely a One Shot.


Disclaimer; I do not own the Harry Potter associated intellectual properties contained herein.

This Story is written in response to the PottersPlace3 September Challenge WWSHD "What Would Slytherin Harry Do?" I took the challenge a little differently, Harry is still a Gryff, but has embraced the inner sneakiness when he needs a quick diversion. Let's pop in and visit him at the end of PS when he is trapped with Quirrel in the chamber with the Mirror...

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"I can see myself presenting the stone to my master. He is rewarding me beyond my wildest dreams. But how do I get it?" Quirrel was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone.

"Use the Boy…" a cold voice from Harry's nightmares instructed.

Quirrel unbound Harry and dragged him by the back of his robes over to stand in front of the mirror. Harry looked into the mirror to hoping for a way out of this desperate situation. Instead he saw himself standing there. The version of him in the mirror reached up and somehow pulled the stone out of the mirror's surface. He winked and placed it in his front pocket. At the same time, the real Harry felt a weight settle in that pocket. He had somehow acquired the Stone! "I see myself. I am Headboy and Quidditch Captain! I'm holding both cups, my parent's are looking on as ghosts. They are so proud of me." Harry poured on the fake tears as he spun his story.

Unfortunately they didn't buy it for an instant. "He lies!" the voice said.

"Tell me what you see!" Quirrel thrust him back in front of the mirror so fast he almost slammed his face into the glass.

What he saw in the mirror this time shocked him, but again he lied. "I see my parents, and a family. I have a younger sister! We're happy. Someone actually loves me…"

"Foolish boy! Do not attempt to lie to Lord Voldemort! Quirrel, allow me to deal with him myself." Professor Quirrel reached up to unwind his turban. From the back of his bald head what he now knew to be Voldemort looked into his eyes and spoke. "We meet again Harry Potter. Soon I will be reborn and my armies will crush the pathetic excuses for wizards in power and I shall rule the world. I will offer you one last chance. There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. Are you weak, or will you join me and rise to power unmatched in history? How about you hand over that stone in your pocket…"

Harry recoiled. How did he know? "I will never join you! You killed my parents. You made me what I am. It's your fault I lived with the Dursleys!"

"Then you will die! Quirrel, kill the boy and bring me the stone!" Quirrel grabbed Harry's arm and he felt a painful burning before Quirrel recoiled in horror. Harry's mind quickly considered his options, apparently contact with his skin had burned them both.

Since he was without his wand, his options were really limited. When in doubt, go with what you know. Flashing back to the few time he had fought back against Dudley, Harry pulled his arm back and slammed it home into his Professor's face. His knuckles burned and hurt but Quirrel retreated a few paces.

Good, now I have some space.' Harry thought. He was reminded of the second vision from the mirror, when his true deepest desire was a way to escape. It too was reminiscent of his days avoiding Harry Hunting, now all he needed was a good sized rock. Unfortunately when he put space between himself and Voldemort, he also went away from the pile of rubble. He desperately needed a rock right now…. Wait, that's it! Rocks… stones… the Stone! Thank God for the Dursleys and hand me down tube socks! "Come get some jackass, I've got the best weapon in the world. A rock in a sock!"

Harry yanked off his shoe and placed the precious Stone in the toe of one of Vernon's old socks. He gave it a couple of twirls while he ducked out of the way of some sickly looking green curse that sounded like something a muggle illusionist would use. Armed with his new flail, Harry charged the older wizard and brained him with it.

Harry barely had time to knock the wand away as he heard the green spell again. What kind of Dark Lord yells "Abracadabra!" all the time? This wasn't a children's tea party! Harry swung his rock again and broke the wand. As Quirrel looked in horror at the stump of his wand still shooting sparks, Harry thanked Merlin purebloods despised physical fighting. Harry kneed Quirrel in the soft tissue and gave him another knock in the temple with the Stone. Quirrel was bleeding profusely now, but Harry didn't stop as his opponent tried to futilely shield himself from the homemade weapon.

On the next swing, Harry's Stone missed, but the sock wrapped around his throat when the stone came back around. The sock became tangled, so Harry suddenly yanked forward catching Quirrel off balance. With a sickening wet crack that echoed in the chamber, Quirrel's head collided with the stone steps and he went still. Harry gave him a couple of good kicks to make sure he was down. Suddenly a wispy ghost like thing erupted from the back of his head and Lord Voldemort left his follower to die.

"The Prophecy won't protect you forever Potter! I will have my revenge!" The spirit hissed as he made his escape.

Sensing that the battle was over, Harry unwound his trusty sock from his opponent's neck and reached into the gory thing to retrieve the precious cargo. When he pulled the Philosopher's Stone from the blood covered sock, he was surprise to discover that the stone which was roughly the size of a man's fist had broken in half at some point. As he stared at the broken stone, he was at first horrified by what this meant. The reality of the broken Philosopher's Stone settled in and he looked for a way to avoid trouble. He racked that part of his brain the Sorting Hat said belonged in Slytherin, searching for some evil plot or half baked scheme before he came to the easiest decision. The best Slytherin was a Gryffindor at this point! He was a Gryffindor and should play the part, stupid, impulsive and with more self righteous values than common sense. He placed half of the stone back into the filthy sock and shoved it into his oversized shoe. It was hardly noticeable and not uncomfortable, though the blood was squishy. At best a souvenir or at worst a bargaining chip, He thought.

He retrieved his wand and placed the stone in the center of the chamber. He brought up all the magical strength he could manage and cast his spell. "Reducto!" The second half of the stone was reduced to a fine powder and a crater was blown into the rock floor. He thought about it for a minute before stripping Quirrel of his cloak and adding it to the debris. "Incendio." Harry cast the spell and set the cloak and any remaining fragments of the Stone on fire.

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As he was working his way back through the obstacles, Dumbledore burst through the door leading to the key chamber. "Mr. Potter, what happened to you? You're covered in blood!"

"Voldemort was using Quirrel's body to try to steal the Stone. I stopped them but Voldemort got away. He promised to come get me and said something about a prophecy. You'll find what's left of Quirrel and the stone in front of the Mirror." Harry said through gritted teeth.

"You stopped them by yourself? Marvelous, simply marvelous my dear boy. I am proud of you Harry. Now what did you mean when you said that what was left of Quirrel and the stone was in front of the mirror?"

"I had to fight Quirrel off after I got the Stone from the Mirror. At the end he hit his head on the steps and stopped moving. There was so much blood…" Harry added a theatric shiver. "When Voldemort promised to come back for me I didn't know when and I knew I wouldn't last in another fight. I had to make sure he never got the Stone. I summoned up my magical energy and destroyed the stone and then set fire to any fragments that were left. I know it was wrong, but I could not let Voldemort win!" Images of the stone exploding in a flash of light and then setting it ablaze passed across his mind.

"Please tell Mr. Flamel that I will cook and clean his house for him over the summer so he has time to make another. I know I cannot replace it but I will try. I will let him take me as his servant" He sounded desperate and scared. On the inside he was looking forward to learning what he could from the master alchemist, even if he spent the summer cleaning it would likely be better than the Dursley's. It also had the convenience of being the right thing to do, he was still a Gryffindor despite the past hour.

"Relax my dear Harry. You did the right thing. You could not know that I was coming to help you. I will tell Nicholas but I do not think he will make you be his servant. He knew the Dark Lord was after the stone, and he knew we might have to destroy it to keep it from his grasp. Let me help you to the Hospital Wing and then I will see to the Professor and Stone. Just shattering it and burning it would not be enough to completely destroy it but it was a good start. You did the right thing, just relax now." Dumbledore waved his wand to levitate Harry before whistling a tune. With a flash of fire, a scarlet bird the size of a swan with long beautiful tail feathers burst into being. "Fawkes, please take Harry to Madam Pomphrey. I need to see to the Stone."

The phoenix grabbed Harry's shoulder with his talents and together they flashed into flame and reappeared in the Hospital. Fawkes sang a few beautiful notes that brought joy to Harry's heart and attracted the nurse's attention. Madam Pomphrey insisted he spend the night in the hospital wing to cure his burns, bruises, cuts, scrapes, spell burns, and cracked rib. She gave him a foul tasting potion to make the bones regrow, cast a spell to seal his cuts, and told him the bruises would clear up on their own after using an ointment for the burns that conflicted with standard bruise treatments.

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The next morning Harry finally returned to his dorm for some privacy. He went into the boy's shower and pulled out his prize. The amber colored stone glowed warmly but the dried blood diminished it from the fire he had seen in the Chamber. He turned on the water and carefully rubbed off all of the blood and foot grime it had acquired until it shone brightly once again. As he did so he noticed that the water that ran off of the clean bits became white and looked like a liquid opal. Rainbows flowed within the droplets as they splashed to the tile and washed down the drain.

Harry stared at the droplets as they continued to fall. Was this the power of the Stone? He knew it could make the Aqua Vita, able to cure all ills and grant immortality, but was the stone still working when in this broken state? Was this all there was to making the elixir of life? He brought his hands into a bowl and let the opal like water collect in his hands with the stone. He brought his hands to his lips and drank deeply. He felt refreshed and powerful, all of his aches and pains from the night before ceased. The bruises and scrapes healed before his eyes while some scars he had since early childhood vanished without a trace. His trademark scar on his forehead did not vanish however and he was slightly disappointed.

Suddenly Harry felt giddy. Dumbledore had come to him that morning to explain some things and get a clearer picture of what happened. He had reassured Harry that the stone was best destroyed and Flamel would not force him to become a servant. The prophecy apparently made Voldemort think that only Harry could defeat him, but Dumbledore assured him it was nothing he needed to worry about yet and prophecies could be very vague. It might only refer to the events when he was a child after all. What it all boiled down to though was that he now had his own Philosopher's Stone that the world thought destroyed, and when Voldemort did come back Harry would have that advantage over him.

Times, they were a changin'….

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A/N; This might eventually be updated or it may remain an orphan... I can see in my mind a young sneaky Harry with the power of the Stone at his disposal. Maybe I'll write a follow up eventually, but for now it's all alone.


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